


The Prince and the PA

by NightChanghes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Actor!Benny, Canon Divergence, Case Fic, Director!Charlie, F/M, Hate to Love, Homophobia, Human!Castiel - Freeform, M/M, PA!dean, SOFT GAYS, Slow Burn, Soulmates, The internal struggles of a bisexual dean winchester, There is a little CastielxBenny but that's bc of acting so, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Undercover!Dean, Undercover!Sam, a lil, actor!Castiel, angel number 122, prince AU, these tags!are pointless, working a case
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-02-04 20:02:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18611530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightChanghes/pseuds/NightChanghes
Summary: Dean and Sam head to Hollywood to work a case at the request of Martin Flagg, producer of Hell Hazers II: The Reckoning, as he has moved on to bigger, more respectable projects. His current film, Your Prince, is being threatened by an unusual Hollywood phenomenon: everyone is heading back into the closet, including his lead actor, Castiel. In an attempt to discover what is causing LGBT stars to denounce their proclaimed sexualities, Dean and Sam infiltrate the set of Your Prince, Dean as a PA and Sam as an executive big shot buddy of Martin's. What happens between Dean and Castiel is nothing short of profound.Or: The one where gay love conquers all.





	1. He's a Star From Heaven Itself

**Author's Note:**

> In terms of where this falls in the canon timeline. I have. No Clue. Sam and Dean are still hunters, but nothing, as far as I can tell, has happened at this point to introduce them to the possibility of angels so, no Castiel pulling Dean from hell etc. Just kind of a one off case for two average hunters. 
> 
> This should update every weekend! But may go slower of faster depending. Definitely weekly updates at the least. I will probably stick to 1,000-3,000 word chapters and don't intend to draw it out too long as it is just one case which usually just span a few days (this one will span like, 3 weeks I think, but yeah) 
> 
> If you notice anything weird or typos or anything, let me know so I can fix it! Also, I am Bi! So if you are feeling weird about how I address LGBTQIA+ issues, let me know, I'm trying to speak from experience or the language I find acceptable but you can totally suggest changes if you notice something off! 
> 
> Okie Dokes, Enjoy!

It’s been quiet for Sam and Dean the past couple of weeks. They ganked a couple of vampires in Cedar Rapids and they just finished off a coven of witches in Albuquerque, but that’s about it. The motel they’ve been staying in is dank and the scratchy, almost plastic comforters are less than inviting. Sam’s sitting at the round table that’s pushed up against the wall by the window to the deserted parking lot, while Dean’s laying, hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, fully clothed, including his boots, on top of the bed’s covers. 

Sam’s tapping his pen, looking out at the dusty landscape before them between scrolling through potential cases. 

Sam pauses for a moment and scans through a potential case, “Alright, we’ve got a mysterious car accident, Jeff Brown, was missing from his car, only thing left in the front seat was his blood.” 

Dean’s still lying on the bed, eyes closed and barely participating, “Was he in any sort of trouble?” 

There’s a pause and the sound of typing, “Actually, yeah. He was wanted for tax evasion. What do you think Dean, vengeful spirit of an IRS agent, out to collect his dues?” He ends his statement with a little chuckle, sounds a bit out there, even for them. 

“Dude, I don’t even have to open my eyes to know that’s a staged crime scene. I’d bet money that good, old Mr. Brown is halfway to Cancun by now.” Dean sighs at that and finally opens his eyes, sitting up and swinging his feet off the bed, “Sam, if we have to stay in this hell hole another day, I swear to G-” He drags a hand down his face and back up through his hair when Sam’s phone rings. 

It’s an unavailable caller but Sam throws a little _might as well answer it_ look at Dean before picking up. 

“Hello? Uh, yeah, this is him. Who’s asking? Oh no no no, yeah, of course, I remember, for sure. What can I help you with?” Sam’s finally utilizing his pen and scribbling something down in the notebook in front of him, “And do you think it has anything to do with those vengeful spirits? No. Alright, yeah, we can be there tomorrow. Great, see you then.” Sam hangs up the phone with a quizzical look on his face, something mischievous sneaking through too. 

“So?” Dean quirks his head at Sam. 

Sam licks his lips a little before relaying anything to Dean, “You remember when we went out to Hollywood like 4 years ago and helped with that ghost case?” 

“You mean,” Dean’s eyes glaze over with a little bit of lust and intrigue, “the Tara Benchley case?” 

Sam flares his nose a little and smiles “Yeah man, that’s the one.” 

Dean’s eyebrows raise.

“What’s this case got to do with her?” 

“Well actually, do you remember Martin Flagg? He was the producer and writer on the set?” 

“Marty? Like, helped me shoot down ghosts with his cellphone camera, Marty?” 

Sam nods, “Yeah, that’s the one.” 

The little glimmer of disappointment on his face dissolves into determination, “What’s up? Why’d he call?” 

“He noticed something strange going on in Hollywood. It might not be our thing, but I say it’s worth checking into.” 

“Is it gonna be...Tara Benchley worthy.” He wiggles his eyebrows as the memory of his short escapade with her creeps back into his memory. 

Sam lets out a soft chuckle, “I think it’s probably worth a little more than that.” 

Dean’s eyes get a little bit bigger as he racks his brain for people, celebrities that they might have a chance to meet. Sam flashes his dimple a little at Dean and bites his tongue in anticipation for the reveal. 

“Dude. Seriously.” Dean’s voice is overly serious in an attempt to cover up his excitement, “Who?” 

“Well,” Sam speaks slowly, “Marty’s gotten a little bit bigger since we’ve been in town. He’s producing a film that they’re pretty sure is going to the Oscars.” 

Dean’s heart flutters a little, this better be good. His head is reeling with hot movie stars and he’s crossing his fingers a little bit with hope. 

“The star in question? It’s Castiel.” 

Deans jaw drops a little bit, but he holds it together if only for a moment, “Castiel? The Castiel?” 

Sam nods and Dean freaks a bit, standing from his position on the bed and pacing around the room, “Oh this is freakin’ awesome. Did you know that he was just 21 when he won his first Academy Award? And for a horror movie of all things, like that doesn’t happen. It was unprecedented Sam, so unreal. He’s so freakin’ cool, we gotta go. Now.” 

“Hey, woah, slow down, I haven’t even told you the case yet, Dean.” but he refuses to heed Sam’s words and is out the door, six-pack swept off the tiny motel table with one hand, the other stuck in his jacket, which he’s attempting to pull over his flannel as he heads towards the Impala. 

“Tell me in the car, Sammy!” He skips a little towards the car and lets out a ‘woop,’ “Hollywood, here we come, Baby!” He gleems as he taps the hood of the sleek car, “This is gonna be awesome. So freakin’ awesome.” 

Dean throws his bag into the trunk and lets Sam do the same before closing it and walking to the driver’s side of the car. Sam mirrors the action on the passenger side as Dean catches Sam’s eyes over the top of the Impala and shoots him a mischievous look.

“Hear me out, Sammy, whatever this case is, I think the best move is to slip back into the Hollywood scene as a PA. Marty knows I can pull it off, and we have a history so there’s a good backstory, you know? While I get close to the stars of the movie to see what’s up, you know, you can do your research.” Dean’s tone is indicative of future debauchery but Sam just shakes his head and gets into the passenger seat. 

“Sure, of course Dean, just, I think you need to actually listen to what’s going on in this case. I’m genuinely not even sure it’s anything, but there are just too many coincidences for it to be...natural.” 

Dean nods and pulls out of the motel parking lot, “Shoot.” 

Sam looks down at the tablet in his lap and pulls up a tabloid article “Two months ago, Balthazar Windsor, lead singer of Angel Blade, proposed to a woman after only seeing her for about 3 weeks.” 

“Okay. And?” 

“And nothing Dean, that’s all. But the thing is, Balthazar is like, openly very gay,” Sam licks his lips waiting for Dean to turn the car around at how much of a longshot this case is, but Dean keeps his eyes ahead and nods, prompting him to go on, “But that’s not the only instance. Other stars, openly LGBT stars, are suddenly getting down on one knee, or at the very least, being spotted with partners that don’t exactly match their proclaimed preference. Honestly, I think it started even earlier than this because similar, rushed wedding situations arose with a few bi stars, but, obviously no one really noticed.” 

Dean sways his head to side eye Sam a bit before clearing his throat, “Where does Castiel come in then?” 

Sam’s eyebrows raise and he lets out a little huff through his nose and a subsequent pull of air back through his teeth, “He’s officially engaged.” 

Dean’s hands grip the steering wheel just a bit tighter. It’s a miniscule reaction not even he understands, but it happens and there’s nothing he can do to prevent it. Just as quickly as it happens, Dean snaps himself out of it, “Isn’t he like, the Hollywood darling of gay rights right now?” 

“Yeah, guess you could put it that way. In classic Hollywood producer style, Marty called because press for the movie is getting really rocky. The movie is a medieval period piece about a Prince that falls in love with one of his knights, and the gay community isn’t exactly happy that someone who used to be part of their community is now actively denouncing the film.” 

Dean purses his lips, “Figures. L.A. people are always trying to serve themselves in one way or another aren’t they?” 

Sam is silent as he nods. 

“Alright, let’s go figure this out. Less bloody than we’re used to, but definitely seems fishy. Plus, who cares if he’s a total douche now, we get to meet Castiel, eh Sammy?” Dean’s attitude shifts into his usual ‘humor as deflection’ tactic as he takes a hand off the wheel and gives Sam a little punch on the shoulder. 

Sam smiles a bit and looks out of the window into the fading light of the day. He’s not sure this case is going to be as simple as it seems.


	2. La La Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Sam make it to a shitty Hollywood hotel and Dean does his...research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! took two weeks to update instead! I will try to get a new update out by tomorrow though to stick with Friday updates though! Thanks for reading! I know this is silly writing and not the most beautiful flowery language, but i'm just working on constructing a narrative and tbh that's always been pretty hard for me. I'm hoping to get this fic to 10,000 words, that's the goal, so we'll see! Sorry about short chapter updates! I think ill aim for 2,000 words at least with the next chapter and going over set dynamics/Cas and Dean meeting!!
> 
> As always, if you notice something that needs an edit or if you have anything to say, let me know! (I'm dumb and the first time i posted this, it was in the wrong tense, so i hopefully edited it all correctly, but let me know if you notice anything like that!)

It's sunset by the time Dean and Sam roll into the motel parking lot.

Under the green light of the motel “vacancy" sign, Dean thinks to himself that it feels an awful lot like they themselves are living in a movie right then and there, but Sam just shakes his head and looks at his brother in wonder. He hasn’t seen Dean so excited for a case in ages and the awe he has for a place like Hollywood is almost whimsical. Dean has always harboured a bitterness for the shallow people choosing to live in a place like LA, but for Dean, Hollywood is different.

After so many nights in so many motel rooms, Sam sleeping on the bed next to him, Dad out working cases for weeks on end, movies were always Dean’s comfort. They’d play softly in the background as he tried to escape the reality that they were living in. Funnily enough, he had always been drawn to horror movies, but that was because he knew the bad guy was always going to lose in the end. There was a certainty to those movies, _that_ , and, the monsters on screen couldn’t really hurt him.

“Right,” Dean says, snapping himself out of his daydreams, “let’s get in there and set up shop. I’ve got a feeling this case might take a bit longer than usual.” He opens Baby’s door and puts on foot on the pavement, looking back in at Sam still sitting in the passenger seat, “Move it, Sammy!”

Sam brushes off the uncharacteristic enthusiasm in Dean’s voice and smirks as he exits the car and heads towards the trunk, “You only _want_ this case to last longer than usual.”

Dean raises his eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam grabs his duffel from the trunk with purpose and turns towards the motel room, not before saying, “If I’m not mistaken, someone wants more time to get to know a certain...Castiel.”

Dean huffs, grabbing his bag, and shutting the trunk.

Sam is already at the motel door, a gold ‘122’ gracing the pale, orange backdrop, jiggling the key in the lock, attempting to unstick it from the old, dusty doorknob by the time Dean catches up.

“Feels like the start of a horror movie, am I right?” Dean smirks just as the key finally turns and the door opens on a musty room, not unlike the one they had just slept so uncomfortably in a night ago in New Mexico.

Sam sets his duffel at the end of the bed furthest from the door and that eerie green light, and Dean throws his bag onto one of the chairs that sits by an old card table pushed into the corner.

“You got your laptop?” Dean questions as Sam begins unpacking his things and putting them into the flimsy cabinet drawers by his bed.

“Yeah, it’s in the side of my bag. Just _please_ don’t use it for porn.”

Dean pads over to the foot of the bed where the bag sits and pulls the slim computer from the bag, “Damn it, you know me too well. Busty Asian Beauties here we come!”

“Dean-” Sam snaps his head around from where he is standing at his cabinet, folding his last flannel.

“Just jokin’ Sammy. Just thought I should get started on some research." He says nonchalantly as he flips the laptop in his hands and opens it before sitting down in a creaky, metal, fold-up chair and placing the laptop in front of him.

He types into the google search bar and begins scrolling through the results.

 

> **Castiel engagement**
> 
> About 25,000,000 results (0.61 seconds)
> 
> _Castiel shocks the world as he gets down on one knee: PEOPLE.com_  
>  In a surprising turn of events, Castiel, an actor known for his Oscar winning performance in “Dead Man Walking” and other projects which have lead him to the highly anticipated “Your Prince” project, got down on one knee for Meg Masters …
> 
> _From “Gay” to New Bae?/ TMZ_  
>  What gives a man the right to gather a fan base, pander to a rising Hollywood community, score a role in a movie focusing on a gay love story and then propose to a woman he barely knows? Fame, apparently. For Castiel …
> 
> _Who is Meg Masters, Castiel’s new gal?_  
>  https://www.usatoday.com/story/life/...castielnewfiance/122192/  
>  All shock and awe aside, it’s about time we learn about the new lady that Castiel has fallen for. Meg Masters is nothing short of ordinary-- a 23-year-old waitress living in a cheap apartment and dreaming of fame …
> 
> _Castiel Proves Salvation IS Possible: GoodChristianLife.com_  
>  In such a position of power in the left affected and sin-riddled community of Hollywood, Castiel has used his privilege to show the world that not everyone has to fall to the evil agendas of the movie industry. We pray that our readers can see that a life of sin is not inevitable and salvation is …

“So, you’re not usually the one doing the research, what’s got you looking so intrigued?” Sam's soft voice brings Dean out of his trance of scrolling and clicking through multiple articles.

“Well, it definitely seems suspicious, I think we need to look into Meg Masters, the girl Castiel proposed to. Honestly, considering her situation, she shouldn’t be able to tie down anyone, let alone a guy like Castiel.”

“You think we’ll be able to find her?”

Dean scoffs, “Yeah, she works two jobs. Funnily enough, one of them is as a PA on his set.”

Sam rolls his eyes, “So, you’re really stuck on this whole 'going undercover as a PA' thing aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you? Last time we were here it was freakin’ awesome!”

Sam sighs and lays back in his bed “For you.”

“Fine. Then you need to go in as someone else. Maybe something closer to a position like the FBI so you can wear your dumb, pressed suit or whatever it is that gets you off.” Dean huffs jokingly.

“I’ll think of something. For now, let's get some sleep. The set opens at seven and we need to be there at six-thirty to meet with Martin.”

“‘Course. 'M just gonna finish up on here. See you in the A.M.”

Dean isn’t sure why, but he can’t get to sleep without continuing his...research...which quickly devolves into looking up Castiel’s most recent photo shoot. Obviously, it's to see if he can notice anything off about him, ectoplasm sneaking out of his ear or silver reflective eyes flashing the camera. What does it matter that it's a topless shoot for Calvin Klein? If Dean finds Cas even a little bit attractive, well that's normal. He'd had plenty of famous, male, role models as a kid, this is no different. It’s just the fame aspect. Totally.

It takes Dean a moment to realize that he has been staring at a photo of Castiel in his briefs, surrounded by men, for just a little bit too long for it to be considered normal.

With that realization, he snaps the laptop shut and slips onto his bed, covering himself with a red and white flannel, jittery with excitement for the day to come. If he dreams about being in that photoshoot with Castiel, no one has to know.


	3. Set Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Im back with another chapter! As usual, slightly late! Also i gotta stop making promises in my notes bc they very rarely hold up. 
> 
> This chapter is i guess a tiny bit longer than the past two, not sure actually, but not by much. And castiel STILL hasn’t been intoduced. But i guess thats like the show, Cas not showing up until (chapter) 4 
> 
> Enjoy. Let me know of any typos or things I should edit. Comment ur enjoyment and kudos it too!

A pillow lands directly on Dean’s head at six sharp and he startles awake, only to see a chuckling Sam escaping from the scene to the bathroom. Dean groans and rubs his eyes, asking himself why the fuck he chose to stay up so late. He’s also hit with the sudden realization that today might be the day he gets to meet an actual celebrity. Not just a B-list one like Tara, but a proper, Oscar winning star. And of course it has to be the one that he’s been following the career of for years. He turns and puts his head back into his pillows, trying to compose himself.

Just as he does so, Sam exits the bathroom with a snarky, “Stay up too late ‘researching’?”

Finally pushing himself up from his position and walking to his bag to put on a clean shirt, Dean grumbles, “Shut up, Sammy.”

Sam grins, “It’s Sam.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

The exchange is short and simple, but it reminds Dean of all the good times before Dad passed and he smiles to himself at the memory.  Dean switches into a black t-shirt and a lightweight, olive-green overshirt, letting it stay open, before slipping his feet into his usual brown boots, laced up tight.

Sam is wearing a nicely tailored suit accessorized with a steel, grey tie and a pair of sunglasses.

“Sunglasses, man? Seriously?”

“Hey, gotta look like a serious Hollywood exec, don’t I?”

Dean nods his head approvingly at the character concept, “Good idea, I think that’ll work perfectly. Gotta have someone keeping me in line down in the trenches.” With a wink and a pat on the shoulder, Dean is passing Sam to head out the door.

“Forgetting something?” Sam says, waving Dean’s gun in the air at him with an amused smile.

Dean huffs and steps back into the room to grab the gun and tuck it into his belt.

“Let’s go.” 

By the time they are in the Impala and speeding to the studio, Dean’s nerves have subsided. Nothing like a good six am session of classic rock and fast driving with the windows down.

Sam’s smiling, noticing how pleased his brother is and resolves that maybe everything with this case will be okay.

They pull into the studio at six twenty, flashing smiles and dropping Marty’s name to get the boom barrier lifted, leaving just enough time to spare to grab a coffee in the lot cafe.

Dean snags a black coffee and Sam orders Earl grey tea, successfully receiving a side eye from Dean. With that, they step back into the quiet, early morning bustle of the filming lot and head to the building where the main indoor scenes of “Your Prince” are being filmed. With a knock on the back door, they are being whisked into the space to Martin’s office in the corner of the set. Dean can’t help but observe the beauty of the set, in one section, stone walls build a turret shaped room around a huge bed, velvet cascading down the sides. He can’t help but smirk thinking about how much he’d like to bang someone there before heading home.

Sam notices where Dean’s eyes are drifting, so he gives him a sharp look and then continues ahead to the office. Martin is sitting inside, multiple copies of the movie script scattered across his desk,  marking up the one in his hand in red ink. When he notices the movement of the door opening, he looks up and bares his teeth in a smile

“Hey guys! Thanks for coming all this way.” He gives Sam and Dean each hugs that are far too intense for their barely existent relationship, but they take them in stride and smile at the gesture upon parting.

“Yeah,” Dean responds, a little shaken, “We’re excited to work on such a high profile case. Not every day we get to work on a movie set.” 

“Hey yeah, and we needed a new production assistant anyways--the last one was incompetent--so that’s a plus.” 

Dean beams, visibly excited to get back into one of his favourite roles he’s ever had, especially since he bets the catering is going to be even better working on such a high-level film.

Sam continues the conversation with Martin, explaining his plan to act as a Hollywood exec supervising on the set since the PR crisis surrounding Castiel started. Before setting them free, Martin goes over his expectations and asks that they at least _try_ not to interrupt any of the filming process in their pursuit of whatever it is that they’re after.

When the clock strikes seven o’clock and they’ve been debriefed on the whole situation, Marty stands and asks the two men to follow him. He points to a woman named Veronica, the set coordinator for the PA’s, and sends Dean on his way. He smiles at Sam like he’s a kid heading out on his first day at school and clips his new radio to his belt, plugging his headset in and sliding it onto his head, turning with purpose to get started.

Marty raises his eyebrows at Sam, “Never seen anyone so excited to work the least desirable job in Hollywood.”

Sam just shrugs and lets Marty lead him to a row of canvas chairs set up a level behind where the director and sound engineers are getting settled in front of the camera feed.

The director, a woman with fiery red hair, turns around and smiles at Marty before scanning over Sam. She quirks her head in a question at Marty before he gets the hint, “Right. Charlie, this is Sam Winchester. He’s here from the Hollywood Film Association. Sam, this is Charlie Bradbury, our director.”

Sam pulls a smile and puts out a hand for Charlie to shake. Her shake is firm but a glint in her eye clues Sam in to her kind disposition, “Winchester, huh? Like Major Winchester from M*A*S*H?” Sam just tilts his head, neither confirming nor denying, but amused with such an obscure reference, “Nice. Well let me know if I can do anything to ease your time here on set. It’s been,” The glint disappears as she sighs, “frustrating.”

“I’m sure. It’s an unusual situation, but that’s why I’m here, hopefully I can help ease the tension.”

“Thanks, Major” she gives Sam a little salute and turns back to her main crew. 

“Thanks for getting on her good side, she’s one of the industries great talents, but she’s not taking the whole situation too well. Real angry with the whole of LA, terrified she or her girlfriend will be the next to fall to ‘The Het Curse’ as she calls it” Martin grins a little at the absurdity but Sam takes note of the language the slick producer uses beside him.

 _Curse? Maybe it’s some sort of witch situation,_ he thinks, _Dean will hate that_ , but it’s something to note, so he writes it down in his field notebook and tucks it back into the front pocket of his jacket.

He sits back comfortably in his canvas chair and watches as the set comes to life. Techs are checking lights, sound engineers are making sure all the boom mics are working, cameras are being shuffled and shots are being discussed. It’s overwhelming, but at least he’s not stuck in the middle of the chaos.

Dean is not so lucky, being sent to do task after task, acquiring a tool belt early on and being summoned for tape and screwdrivers and sharpies almost immediately. But he likes being busy, likes having someone to answer to. It’s easier than just wandering through life without any direction. That’s why he likes the job so much. There’s a mission, a clear goal, and there aren’t any surprising last minute twists he needs to account for because that’s the movie’s job. Not his. Amidst all the hustle and bustle, he feels peace.

Until suddenly, it goes quiet. No more yelling across for tape to mark standing positions, no more camera men discussing shots, no more last minute blocking. 

A little whisper crackles in on his radio, “He’s here.”


	4. Knights, and Princes and Movies, Oh My!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There Are Lots of Water Bottles in this chapter. and a sword being pulled out. subtext. also, text.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally a longer-ish chapter! 3000 words bby!
> 
> as always, comment, kudos and let me know if I have any fuck ups! it's almost 5 am and I am sleeeeeby

Dean is still, swaying in the silence, when he hears the heavy footsteps of someone approaching. He’s standing by the table of food, naturally, so he doesn’t see who it is until they turn the corner around the main indoor set piece.

His breath immediately hitches as Castiel strides in, signature trench coat flowing behind him, messy hair proceeding him. He has to blink twice when he notices the blue of his eyes, even from the other side of the room. The slider that Dean had picked up to munch on while he was waiting for the dead silence to break doesn’t make it to his mouth, which is suddenly a gaping ‘o.’

He sets the slider back down on the table, out of place, without looking, and wipes any grease from his fingers onto his jeans. He composes himself, although he’s not sure why he’s so flustered in the first place. Maybe it’s because just last night, he was looking at this man before him in his underwear, but he’s pretty sure it’s just because he’s a fan. Right.

Veronica’s voice comes through on his radio, “Dean, check if he needs anything, alright? If he dismisses you, don’t push it.”

“Copy that.”

When he’s finally back to breathing steady, and Castiel has settled into a canvas chair with his name on the back, Dean approaches.

He clears his throat and rounds the chair until he’s standing in front of the actor, “Hi, can I get you anything Castiel?”

Castiel is looking down at his pages for the day, going over the lines one last time and his furrowed brow raises, revealing those baby-blues. His eyebrows stay scrunched up when he sees Dean, “Who are you?”

“Oh, um, Dean. Dean Winchester” He puts a hand out for Castiel to shake, but the man just stares at the outstretched hand and gives a nod before his eyes fall back to the paper in his hands.

Dean stands there for a moment, unsure if he’s been dismissed or if he’s supposed to stay there, when Castiel’s voice breaks the silence, “Get me a bottle of water, if you would.”  His eyes are still avoiding Dean, but Dean nods anyways, giving a little sound that he hopes comes across as a confirmation that the task is being carried out.

When he turns, he lets out a breath that he wasn’t even aware he was holding and heads back to the food table. A small ice box sits underneath it and he reaches in to grab a water. There’s some fancy bottle that Dean is pretty sure is made of glass, and then some good old, gas station quality water. Dean’s always thought the expensive stuff tastes bitter, so he grabs the less expensive bottle and wipes any wetness from melted ice off the sides with his flannel.

He makes his way back to Castiel, heart beating quick again, and he wishes he could curse the man upstairs for whatever bullshit he’s pulling by making his body betray him like this. He flips the bottle in his hand and taps the end of it on Castiel’s shoulder to get his attention. When Castiel’s head snaps up, Dean gives a quirky smile and moves the water closer to prompt Castiel to grab it.

Castiel just stares at the bottle before letting his eyes drift up to Dean’s.

Dean freezes, hoping he’s not about to get called out for grabbing the cheap stuff when Castiel’s eyes soften and he reaches up to grab the bottle.

“Thank you, Dean.”

The way that his name rolls off of Castiel’s tongue, rumbling and warm, makes Dean’s cheeks heat up. He’s not even aware that he’s still holding his end of the bottle until Castiel gives a little cough and darts his eyes to the bottle.

“Shit, sorry.” He runs his now free hand through his hair and bites his lower lip in embarrassment, “Well, just let me know if you need anything else.”

He turns hot on his heel and heads for where Sam is sitting, not noticing Castiel’s eyes as they linger on him as he walks away.

When Dean reaches Sam, who’s now drinking the fancy-brand bottled water, he shakes his head, eyes widened.

Sam smirks, “How was the meet-cute?”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Not funny, Sammy. But truthfully, doesn’t seem like too bad a guy. For an actor, doesn’t seem to full of himself.” He shrugs at this and then lowers his voice, “Find anything?”

Sam gives him an affirming head shake and leans into Dean, so as not to disturb the group of higher-ups that sit around him, “Check for any hex bags.”

Dean leans back and lets out an exasperated sigh, “Witches? Seriously?” He lets out a little gag before giving a curt nod, “Had to be fricken’ witches.”

Sam smiles as Dean walks off with a huff.

It’s at this moment that Charlie turns back around to look at him and Marty, a twinkle in her eye, “Alright, bitches. Let’s get this show on the road.” She’s grinning and patting her cameramen on the shoulders as she squeezes out past all the equipment to go discuss the finalized blocking with Castiel. Sam lets out a little laugh at that, excited to see such a talented director at work. She pats Castiel, who’s currently getting the last touches of his hair and makeup settled, and he listens intently as she points to some of the tape marks on the floor of the castle bedroom setting.

Sam can see Dean, discussing something with one of the knight characters, probably something about the costume because suddenly the knight is pulling his sword from its scabbard and handing it to Dean. Dean smiles, giving it a few swoops to his side and checking the balance before handing it, hilt first, back to the actor. He’s grinning wide when he catches Sam watching him, and so he throws him a big thumbs up. The actor Dean was engaged with is smiling too, and taps a hand on his shoulder. At that, Dean hustles over to the cooler and grabs a bottle of water and tosses it across the set to the knight. The knight takes a sip and says something that has Dean laughing and reaching for the bottle to set back by the knight’s canvas chair.

The back of the chair reads Lafitte, and Sam puts two and two together. The knight must be the other main actor, he’d heard they found a somewhat undiscovered talent for the role next to Castiel, and Sam makes note to get Dean to talk to him about the case. Not just swords and whatever else they seemed enthralled to talk to one another about. The younger Winchester brother takes the lull in Dean’s activities to scan the set once more, noticing Castiel glaring daggers at ‘Lafitte’ and Dean.

Sam can see the actor’s jaw lock up from where he’s sitting and then suddenly, his mouth is opening and he’s growling out, “Dean.”

Sam lets his eyes dart to where Dean is still chatting with the knight in shining armor and is praying that, in some world, his brother heard.

Castiel snaps out a second iteration of Dean’s name and suddenly Dean is glancing over his shoulder and putting a finger up to pause the conversation he's enveloped in.

Dean’s almost jogging over to where Castiel is sitting, the costume designer placing the gold band of a crown over dark hair when Sam spots Charlie making her way back to her director’s chair.

Sam smiles at her upon her return, “Everything good?”

She shrugs, “We’re supposed to film their first kiss today, but Castiel seems to be in a particularly grumpy mood. He’s asking if there are any other castle scenes we can film today, but, y’know, that’s not up to him.”

“You tell him that? Because I can get involved if you need me to.”

“We’re good. If he keeps resisting, I’ll grab you. Wish we had filmed the kiss before the _curse,_ but, now we just gotta deal with it. He’s signed a contract, so we should be okay.”

“Great. You’re doing a great job, Charlie.”

“Roger that,” and then she’s spinning back to face forward, red hair whooshing by Sam’s face.

When Sam looks up, Castiel and Dean are gone from where he had clocked them last and a small amount of panic settles in his stomach. He stands to get a better view of the set and nearly runs to look around when he sees Dean walking out from behind the outer wall of the castle turret, looking frustrated.

He glances at Sam and shakes his head as he breaks the eye contact.

Sam notices Castiel pop out from the same spot behind the wall and quirks an eyebrow. 

He's definitely going to need to hear about what just happened when they return to the motel later. 

For now, Sam is broken from his confusion by the sound of calls across the set, Castiel and Lafitte finally making their way into the lavish castle bedroom and standing on their marks, waiting for the cue.

Someone shouts “Rolling.”

A man walks onto the set with a clapperboard “Scene 28, Take 1” and then with a snap, “Action!”

Sam watches in awe as Castiel’s disposition changes from confident and demanding to nervous and shifty. He’s avoiding the knight's eyes, running a finger back and forth across his own chin. 

“Your Highness,” the soft voice comes from Lafitte, a British accent Sam would never have expected flows like honey off of the bearded man’s tongue.

Castiel, the prince, is still looking down, avoiding eye contact when the knight approaches, one soft step closer.

His hand reaches out to Castiel’s chin and soft fingers replace the prince's to tilt his head up, “George.” somehow, Lafitte's voice is impossibly softer now-- wanting. The whole set is sitting on bated breath, watching the chemistry oozing from between the actors.  

Castiel closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath, fluttering his eyes open to finally meet the knight’s in full. He stares and a beat passes, and then he’s giving a tiny, almost imperceivable nod Sam would have never caught if it weren’t for the director’s monitors that he was sitting behind, and the knight is leaning in to catch Castiel’s lips. The moment they make contact, Castiel’s eyes are flinching open and he’s pushing Lafitte away and tearing his crown off of his head before stomping off of the set.

Sam can hear as Charlie curses and the rest of the cameramen groan, a few mumbled words along the lines of “goddamn fragile masculinity” are passed around as everything is reset.

“Winchester.” the sound of Castiel’s voice calling Sam’s last name gets him to turn his head, but then Dean is already running to his side, listening intently as Castiel speaks.

\--

If someone had told Dean at the start of this morning that he would be pulled off set by Castiel himself to tell him off for flirting with his co-stars, Dean would have punched them in the face and got on with his goddamn day. Except, that it had happened, and he couldn’t quit thinking about it.

Dean had been in awe of the badass knight’s armour that one of the actors on set was wearing and had quickly approached to admire it.

“M’ name’s Dean,” reaching out a hand, one gladly accepted and shaken by the knight, and giving him a toothy grin, “new PA.”

“Benny Lafitte. Nice to meet you, brother.” Dean had noticed Benny’s southern drawl and thought it seemed misplaced for a man in a knight’s getup, but he just smiled and raised his eyebrows.

Dean hadn’t seen any harm to it, but soon he was gesturing towards Benny’s silver and red armor and praising, “Dude, this outfit is badass.”

“Check it out, real sword and everything.” He pulled the shiny, sword out and carefully handed it to Dean.

He had been checking the balance, letting the blade slip by his side a few times when he looked up at the actor, “Probably shouldn’t be handing swords to just anybody, Benny.” This elicited a small chuckle from Benny, who then reached out his hand in a gesture to retrieve the sword. Dean handed it back, hand still on the hilt when he grabbed it. Their fingers grazed one another, but Dean didn’t think anything of it. Maybe he should have, because suddenly, after retrieving some water for Benny before the first scene of the day, he was being beckoned by the low of Castiel’s voice.

It sent shivers up his spine when he heard it, so much deeper than before, and stern, controlling. He couldn’t help himself when he abruptly ended his conversation with Benny to rise and walk to Castiel.

The blue of Castiel’s eyes was stormy and dark, as a crown was placed onto his hair. Dean’s mouth went dry at the sight of the bright gold crown against the jet black hair, he remembers thinking, _He looks like an angel, halo and all,_ but as soon as the thought came, he was shaking it from his head and focusing on the man before him.

Like sandpaper, the rough of Castiel’s voice beckoned him as he stood from his chair, “Come.”

Dean had followed like a lost puppy, annoyed with his own inability to think for himself around Castiel. Suppose that’s the job of a PA though, no harm in that.

When they had reached the other side of the wall of the rounded bedroom, where they were hidden from sight, Castiel had turned towards Dean and taken stern steps closer, prompting Dean to walk back until his shoulders were against the drywall and he could feel Castiel’s breath on his lips.

“You are nothing on this set. Do you understand me?” Castiel’s eyes were intense, so much so that Dean’s own voice ran out on him. “Dean. You do not build relationships here. You do not _flirt,_ if that’s what you were doing, I won’t allow it. It’s wrong, Dean. Immoral.” Dean could see a flicker of guilt pass across Castiel’s face, along with something else.

Thinking back, it seemed like a pang of jealousy, but considering the circumstances, Dean wasn’t too keen on that possibility. Thinking back, Dean also isn't angry. He knows he should be considering what Castiel said, but he's a hunter, and there's something deeper going on, and he can't blame a man for his actions if a witch is in the way. 

Castiel’s hand had found its way up to the lapel of his flannel and was grasping there, almost gently, “Now, we are going to go back out there, and you are going to show me some respect. You understand? You report to me alone.” Castiel’s hot breath was closer now, eyes blurry because Dean couldn’t adjust to the closeness, but the moment did not linger as Castiel pushed Dean back ever so slightly, almost as if he had to convince himself to let go.

Just as quickly as he had advanced onto Dean, he was turning away and placing his face in his hands.

Dean felt something pulling him to Castiel, but he ignored it and hunkered back out onto the set. _What the fuck?_

We he rounded the corner of the set, he made eye contact with a concerned looking Sam, but he just dismissed it and walked on.

He was a PA, not a friend, this was not a Tara Benchley movie, this was the real deal of Hollywood, and Dean knew he needed to suck it up.

\--

Dean’s vaguely aware that he’s leaning against the prop table, lost in his thoughts, processing, when he hears “Action!” from the set. He looks up to see Castiel, in all his majesty, slip away from the dominant man that had cornered him just moments before, and turn into someone new. Someone soft and vulnerable, and damn, he’s good. Better than Dean could have ever imagined.

The scene begins to play out, reluctant prince and knight in shining armor, soft and scared and beautiful. He's not usually a sucker for the mushy stuff, but damn if this isn't genius. Dean takes a moment to glance over to where the director is sitting in front of the monitors and smiles. 

_She’s brilliant, this is beautiful._

When he looks back to the bedroom scene, he notices heavenly light pouring in from the window carved out in the stone. There are specks of dust dancing in the light as a bit of that artificial sunshine graces Castiel’s cheek as his face is lifted by Benny’s fingers. Dean notices that it falls onto Castiel’s eyelashes as his eyes flutter closed.

Dean has a moment where he wishes he was standing where Benny is- he’d bend down ever so slightly and leave a wisp of a kiss on those eyelashes before moving Castiel’s chin up further for their lips to mee-

“Winchester!”

_Woah._

Dean is shocked out of his state of trance by Castiel’s voice snapping.

He realizes he was so deep into his daydream that he doesn’t really know what’s transpired, but he feels like he’s parting a sea of collective, mumbled disdain as he approaches Castiel.

“What’s up?” he tries to keep his eyes lowered, but they only remind him of how he’s missing that intense stare of blue.

“Can you do me a favor?”

Dean nods.

“My fiance is working on another set in this compound today, but I would really like to speak with her. We aren’t allowed phones on set, and I can’t leave, so could you-”

“‘Course.” Dean finally meets Castiel's eyes, whose walls seem to have been suddenly torn down. He looks weak, much more like the prince than he’s used to. Dean puts a reassuring hand on Castiel’s shoulder, “Where’s she at?”

When Castiel relays her location, Dean squeezes his shoulder where his hand is and turns to leave.

He hears a small “Thank you.” from behind him as he walks out of the set and into the California sun.

 


End file.
